


I Don't Know What Grey Is

by madamecrimson



Category: Original Work
Genre: ABDL, Age Play, Anorexia, Anxiety Disorder, BDSM, Bloodplay, Boss/Employee Relationship, Childhood Trauma, Collars, Consent, Contracts, Cutting, Depression, Diapers, Eating Disorders, F/M, Master/Slave, Masturbation, Mental Health Issues, Obsession, Omorashi, Ownership, Perfect, Possession, Praise Kink, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Tattoos, Unhealthy Relationships, Watersports
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-12
Updated: 2020-02-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:33:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22679527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madamecrimson/pseuds/madamecrimson
Summary: This is intended to be more of a writing exercise exploring either themes I don't normally write about, or exploring themes in ways that I don't normally write about.It is definitely on the darker side of what I normally am comfortable writing/posting, and so I have tagged accordingly.(Also the title and story have nothing to do with "50 Shades of Grey." They are based off a quote that can be found in the notes section at the beginning of the first chapter).
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Male Character
Kudos: 10





	1. Not Just An Ordinary Day

**Author's Note:**

> “I either eat too much or starve myself. Sleep for 14 hours or have insomniac nights. Fall in love very hard or hate passionately. I don’t know what grey is. I never did.”
> 
> ― Hedonist Poet

She stepped into the office that Monday morning with the expectation of an ordinary day. One of the benefits of finally securing a full-time permanent position was the privilege of predictability. Sure, it wasn't in the field she'd spent years painstakingly preparing for. It wasn't that she didn't have the academic or professional experience either. The positions available at her current level of expertise were ones she had dreamed of having since she had finally decided what she truly wanted to study and what career she wanted to have. She had wanted to assist in discoveries that would change the world, expanding human understanding and knowledge. However, she had only learned towards the end of her academic career that those jobs she had so desperately wanted were usually not long-term. She would need to change jobs and move around every few years. In her 32 years of life she had moved far more than she would have liked to, and really just wanted to settle down somewhere so she could develop and cling to familiarity for once. Due to frequent moves and a variety of other life circumstances, she had no friends to her name. It was a lonely life, but she was financially secure and at least she got along with the people that she worked with. 

Especially Him. 

She knew it was wrong to be achingly, desperately, devotedly, obsessively, passionately attracted to and in love with one of her bosses, who was in a long-term dating relationship nonetheless, but she couldn't help herself. She would never throw herself at Him though or interfere with His personal life. She was simply not that girl anymore. She respected Him, His girlfriend, and her job. She just dealt with the fact that her heart would race painfully fast whenever she caught a glimpse of Him. She just dealt with the fact that she could feel her cheeks heating up, her knees trembling, her hands becoming unsteady at His mere presence. She just dealt with the fact that the most ordinary actions, tones, or words from Him could make her panties instantly wet. She had in fact taken to wearing two pairs for that very reason. She thought that women didn't normally...drip this much, that that was an unrealistic depiction in porn. She was proven wrong. 

That day she was wearing her black flats with the little bows on the top and a pair of no show white socks to keep her shoes fresh and clean. She wore a pleated gray skirt that fell just above her knees, a white button-up blouse with lace along the trim, and a black ribbon tied into a bow under the peter pan collar. In her shoulder length light brown hair she had tied a ribbon so that the bow was on top of her head on the left side, and on her wrist was a red beaded bracelet with a silver dragonfly charm. She stood at 61 inches tall, and finally, to her great delight, 89 lbs. She was finally only 9 lbs. away from her ultimate goal weight. 

She may not have anything to show for her degree. She may not have anything to show for her intelligence. She may not have anything to show for her personality. She may not have anything to show for her looks. But at least, she did not have anything to show in terms of her body. At least she could be skinny. She didn't want to take up space. She wanted to be delicate, frail, and small. She had spent her entire life anxious and critical. It didn't help that she was forced to grow up too fast, give up things before she was ready, told she was capable and confident and independent and too hard on herself. Especially while she watched others her own age being fussed over. Being cared for. Being treated as precious. Being allowed to be weak and shy and dependent and having someone want to take care of all of their needs, step up and be a dominant leader for them. But no one would ever see her that way, especially since she carefully hid her vulnerability, not trusting anyone. For when she had revealed it in the past it had either ended up in abuse or indifference. And she was damn tired of it. 

Black purse hanging at her side, she began making her way toward her desk when she stopped dead in her tracks. Always used to being the first one here by about 15 minutes, she was shocked to see her Boss. He was standing tall in his normal tight pants, button-up light colored collared shirt, and He was wearing His glasses today. She immediately felt her knees buckle and she hoped she got get to her desk soon before she humiliatingly collapsed right there on the floor. She could feel her cheeks redden and her heart feel like it was going to burst out of her chest as she saw Him lift his wrist to check his watch. 

"It appears you're about 3 minutes late to being early," He said, his voice an intoxicating combination of domination and warmth. "Don't let it happen again," He said with a wink. He turned on His heel then as she stood frozen in place. He raised a hand, flicking His index finger forward in a motion for her to follow Him, and she did so without a moment's hesitation.


	2. You Don't Need To Be A Soldier

He sat down in the chair behind His desk, and she sat in the chair that was nearby. His hands were folded together neatly and He was staring at her. While she had worked diligently to improve upon her eye contact skills, it could often still be a struggle, especially if that content were extended. She dropped her gaze, fiddling with her bracelet. 

"My girlfriend and I broke up," He finally said. 

Her eyes snapped up to meet His. His tone was matter-of-fact, His face expressionless. She was surprised that He had said "my girlfriend" and not her actual name. It was as if He was already trying to distance Himself from that relationship. 

"I'm sorry to hear that," she said softly, and she meant it. If He was hurt by it. She had had relationships end in her own life and she was better off for it, however, it left her unsure what to say in these types of situations where she was only given a limited amount of information. 

"I'm the one who ended things," He clarified, shifting in His chair so that one leg was crossed over the other. 

"Oh. Okay," she said back with a nod. Her hands were shaking, clammy and almost dripping with sweat. It baffled her how one man could possibly have such an effect on her by merely existing. 

He placed His forearms on the arm rests of the chair, curling His fingers around the edges. 

"The truth is, I would never be able to love her as much as I have found myself in love with you," He said plainly, as if He were talking about the weather, or something as equally mundane. 

She felt all the air rush from her lungs, as if He were the one to pull it from her. Her thoughts felt like television static and it took her a bit to respond. 

"I-I feel the same way," she mumbled quietly. 

"Well, that was a little obvious," He admitted, His tone gentle. He wanted only truth spoken between them, but He certainly didn't want to humiliate her. 

At least not about this, and not without her consent. 

She blushed profusely, letting out a weak, half-hearted giggle. She was embarrassed at her lack of covertness, but at the same time, she reveled in the fact that for once, someone had noticed and observed something about her, not the other way around. It wasn't that she was ungrateful for her skills, quite the contrary. It was definitely an advantage to her academically and professionally, although she often hid it socially, as revealing it previously had sometimes made others uncomfortable. 

"I am interested in an unconventional relationship dynamic," He revealed. 

"Oh?" she asked, looking up at Him tentatively. 

She felt like His eyes were boring into her, reading through months and months of hidden fantasies, silent orgasms, and emotions so intense she sometimes felt unable to breathe with the strength of it all. It was nice to be read. It was nice for someone to open her book and look inside, their interest piqued enough to keep reading, at least through the first chapter of her existence. She feared He may grow bored of her, only appreciate her for certain facets, or even one day find her useless enough to discard. However, she didn't care. She would be willing to endure the agony of eventual rejection, in favor of even just a day with Him. 

"You and I will be in a monogamous relationship, modified by a power dynamic," He explained. 

She shivered audibly, her cheeks hot with shame. She hadn't meant to do that but the implications of His words, of hearing Him actually say them, was enough to already coat her in chills. She could already barely believe this was a reality, but that merely confirmed it for her. 

He merely smirked bemusedly. "You would be my submissive outside of the bedroom, full-time. Inside the bedroom, it would be 90-98% of the time." 

She blinked up at Him. "So, does that mean, in the bedroom, there would be times that you would also be wanting me to dominate you?"

He nodded, face still bearing the smirk, although a light pink now dusted His cheeks. 

She felt her chest grow warm at the thought. "I would love that," she whispered, her whole body thrumming. 

This was not the first time she had been in this sort of arrangement. However, the times that she had been had taken place solely online and via webcam. She wasn't sure if it was a matter of distance or content of character, but she often felt like she would end up taking over the dominant role regardless, especially when it came to basic life choices. In her boss, she finally saw an opportunity for things to be the other way around. That had been why she had sought out her previous arrangements in the first place, but no one measured up. As she knew her boss in person, she was more confident that He would act on His words. 

The sound of the other employees speaking could be distantly heard. "I will drive you to my apartment after work," He said. It was a statement, but His tone indicated that He wanted her agreement before the plan was finalized. 

"Okay," she breathed, smiling up at Him. He returned the smile and she felt like she might melt into her chair. 

He went to begin his work for the day and she hurried off to the bathroom. 

...perhaps 3 pairs of panties would be the charm.


End file.
